The Serpent's Waltz
by Lily Luna Lestrange III
Summary: 'Tom looked at Ginevra. Ginevra looked at Tom. Tom gave her one of his seductive, yet lovely smiles. He held out his hand. "Shall we?"' Sequel to Only Just.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. But enjoy, and please (I really hate begging) review! **

She knew when she did this, there was no turning back. Yet she had no regret of even _thinking _about doing this. She even had the nagging feeling inside of her that she was doing something _right._ She just hoped she wasn't being "selfish" to other people's eyes. Oh, well. Her friend will understand.

She didn't _exactly_ know why she was doing this though. It was either because of _him, _being insignificant in others' lives, or the other _him._ But the other _him_ was just an old friend. Surely she wouldn't do this just for him. Right?

_Are you sure I'm just an old friend, Ginevra? _A voice echoed. She turned. Nothing was there. Shrug.

Possibly reason number 2? Besides, didn't_ he _say that love was just a distraction, and it should be ignored? "_You don't really love, Princess. You lust. There's a difference. And you feel it for Potter, nevertheless. And all he does is ignore you and think you are just his best friend's little sister. He even said nothing to comfort you when you two were on the subject of possession! He just said "I forgot." Wow. What a friend you have there. You feel solitary because of that piece of rubbish the world calls Harry James Potter. I know it. Why waste your life on him, princess? He is worthless compared to you. You should waste your life on someone better. Like me,"_ The voice whispered in her ear. Turn. Nothing. Shrug. She walked through the halls that didn't care a thing about her. Even the portraits didn't seem to care. It didn't matter. She didn't care about them, anyhow.

Then she did the unthinkable. She skipped. She skipped as if she was her friend that was in her own little world. Ah, yes, Ginevra Weasley always wished to be like her oddball of a friend. Innocent. Happy even when things wanted to pull her down. Ginevra was like that when she was a small girl. A naïve, little girl…ugh, now she was thinking of the other _him. "Weren't you thinking of me before, Ginevra?" _Shrug. At least the next time they would talk, it will be face to face, and not book to book. "Death is the next great adventure," as Dumbledore would say. Maybe that was her next great adventure. Not trying so hard to find her place in the world and just find it easily...elsewhere. She shrugged.

Before she knew it, she entered outside._ "History shall repeat itself," _the bitter wind said. She looked at Hagrid's Hut. She walked. _Crack. _She stopped. A twig was broken right next to her. She looked up, but a most blissful feeling over took her. Ginevra was almost enchanted by this wonderful feeling; her eyes gently closed as it seemed someone commanded her to. The wind felt like icy hands petting her neck as she tilted her head. Her head rolled to an unseen arm sitting on her weak shoulder that was securely rocking her somewhat limp body back and forth. Was that the wind at all? Ginevra's heartbeat quickened. She tried to gasp for air, choking and coughing. But then a single invisible finger hurriedly touched her lips, making a light pant. She was in the same enchanted position as before once again. Ginevra thought that she saw a smirk from the "wind" when she started to bat her eyelashes as she fell to a peaceful sleep in the "wind's" possessive arms.

But it was only till she went into that state to find out it wasn't the wind to her eyes. She was not alone.

_You are so beautiful when you are under my wing, _a voice told Ginevra. Her unconscious body put a smirk on her face. _I do not want your help. Not yet, _Ginevra's soft lips unknowingly muttered. _Fine. Do it yourself. You'll need me later. _That was when the arms of her handsome enchanter disappeared, and she fell on the wet grass. Her face was pale, her eyes murky, and her braided hair damp. She did not care one bit.

She entered Hagrid's rooster coop and grabbed the bucket. Ginevra whistled air out of her lips. She did this before. Except she wasn't conscious.

She picked up one rooster by the neck and held it over the bucket. It tried to bite her several times, but no matter. She squeezed its neck harder and harder. The rooster made a blood-curdling crow, until its petrified eyes went blank. Dead.

Ginevra carefully grabbed a dainty knife from her pocket. She could easily use this knife to kill herself, but that wasn't her plan. She had special things in store for herself.

When Ginevra's knife "accidentally slipped" from her hand and blood gushed out from the rooster into the bucket, she did the same process to the other roosters. Grab. Strangle. Crow. Dead. Cut. Bucket. After at least 4 strangled roosters filling the bucket with dark blood (she swore she could hear clapping), Ginevra carefully carried the almost overflowed bucket in the bloodbath-free Hogwarts. But it wouldn't be bloodbath-free for long.

Meanwhile, Ginevra successfully (if a few small spills were successful) carried the bucket to the place she wanted to reach: the second-floor corridor. Ginevra didn't know whether to groan or grin. Ripples came from the blood as she put her two fingers into the bucket. Her red fingers touched the wall. Letters formed as she "finger-painted" with nervousness and glee. At the end of her message that would be infamous to the Wizarding World, she dunked her hand in to the bucket; blood was splattered everywhere. Ginevra then placed her drenched hand next her message on the wall, making a hand-print. As she walked away to finish her mission, she smirked and glanced behind looking at the soon-to-be infamous writing:

MY SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER

Water poured onto Ginevra's red-handed hands from the sink of the bathroom. She ignored Moaning Myrtle's hopeless wails from the second bathroom stall. Shaking the water off her hands, Ginevra had realized her fatal mistake.

She could not speak Parseltongue.

Ginevra pounded her hands on the chamber entrance way. Tears cascaded freely down her cheeks that had no color what so ever. Sure, she could find other ways to do what she had to do, but she wanted to do it _in there_. Where her heart was closest to.

"Open up…just-open up!" Ginevra sobbed. Snake sounds were mocking her, and she was sure _he _was too. Snake sounds…

The old sink revealed a pipe: a pipe large enough to fit a man. _No, that's impossible. I can't speak Parsel-_

_ Remember when I said: "You'll need me later?" _an oh-so familiar voice dominated her mind. _That was you-technically-but that was because a certain person helped you open it…_ Ginevra looked in the mirror, and tried not to scream. Her eyes flickered from an icy blue to her normal brown, blue to brown, blue to brown. She was in control of her body, but it wasn't her eyes that made her cover her mouth. A rather handsome boy about a year or two older than her was hovering over her and laid his hand on her shoulder. Ginevra knew exactly who he was. She just didn't know why she was so frightened.

Frosty breath came out of Ginevra's mouth. Most of the mirror was blurry a minute later. Squeaky sounds came from it as she wiped it. He was gone.

Ginevra aimlessly walked towards the pipe; she was centimeters away from it. She took another step forward. Her heart jumped out of her chest as she fell as what felt like ages. She did not have the power to scream; she just made ones that no one could here but herself.

Ginevra shot out of the slimy pipe and landed with a light thud. The disoriented girl got on her feet and splashed her feet into the puddles as she limped. The tunnel was dark, but had green tinted light shining on her. Long snake skin was surrounding her minutes later. Ginevra looked up. There it was. The entrance door to the Chamber of Secrets. Ginevra cleared her throat, for she knew Tom was next to her. She did not notice her squinted eyes became lighter and lighter shades of blue.

_"Open," _ Ginevra hissed. The carved snakes unraveled, and the concealed door was not so concealed any more. Ginevra made way inside, and saw the chamber hall she wished she would see one more time. She walked in a faster pace, and soon the power-walking became running, and the running became sprinting. It wasn't until then she was near the statue of Slytherin's feet, and the basilisk that tried to kill her rescuer that was only there because she was Ronald's little sister.

Ginevra touched the hard quills of the basilisk with one hand, and yanked a fang from it from the other.

She looked at her surroundings one last time. Was this worth it? She turned and saw a dimmed figure that others would not see. It gave a nod that screamed, "_Proceed." _

Yes, this was worth it. Harry James Potter was not the person that was there for her. That was Tom Marvolo Riddle. Her friend. The best one.

Ginevra's throat suddenly went dry. She did not see that the dimmed figure was right behind her.

"Catch me when I fall, will you?" Ginevra looked at her new sky. She plunged the fang right into her heart. She crumpled like a rag doll; her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head. Ginevra whimpered and couldn't see clearly; the pain was so unbearable that she couldn't scream and instead made the shrillest screech inside of her. Tears flowed down her now glassy eyes, and her face became as white as a ghost. But someone wiped the tears off her beautiful face. Ginevra's dizzy vision looked at the blood coming from her heart. But it wasn't red blood.

It was black. Just like ink.

And that was the moment when Ginevra Molly Weasley, died.

*~~~**SW**~~~*

Ginevra thought she would see a blinding white light when she was dead. She didn't. Instead, it remained black for a couple seconds, and then everything slowly got back into focus. She stirred. She knew she was dead, and she also knew that the afterlife was right where she died.

She was right. But the chamber looked different then it was before. _Very_ different. It was cleaner, that was for sure. It also wasn't as dark as it was before. Ginevra looked up and saw a sparkly green chandelier above her head. The pillars were decorated with candles on vines, and she saw a long table with two chairs on each end that could only mean that was the dinner table. The turkey legs, soup, bread, baked potato, and peppermint humbugs were a dead giveaway. The chamber was also quite larger: bright lights shown out of doors she thought were other rooms. She stared at the ground when she became curious enough to see what was inside the rooms. Both her body and the basilisk's were gone. She made a quick little jog to the room on the left. She peered inside. It was a bedroom. A bookshelf covered two of the walls; Hermione would be in love. There was a lime-green bed and curtains hanging over it that made it look like it belonged to a princess. A lamp and an illusion window (there couldn't possibly be any sunlight or moonlight in the underground chamber) that showed a sun and two translucent moons (one was bigger than the other, and the huge one was in front of the tiny one.) that made Ginevra wonder. Wasn't the next divine multi-day phase event happening in 2024? Shrug. Anything is possible. This _is _the afterlife.

Ginevra looked at the room next door. It was yet another bedroom, and it looked similar to the other room. The differences were that this room was bigger, and the floors were a reflective black rather than a wooden brown. There were no curtains hanging over the grey bed. The room looked more masculine than the other bedroom, which had a girlish touch to it. A small black book lay on the shelf that was next to a window that showed just one big moon and pitch-black night.

Ginevra closed the door, and walked to see the room on the other side of the chamber. When she entered the chamber "living room" as she called it, she screamed bloody murder as a silhouette stood in front of her.

"T-Tom?" Ginevra didn't know whether to be extremely excited or extremely uncomfortable. Tom Marvolo Riddle revealed himself to the light.

"I knew you would come back," he caressed her hair. "And you would come to your senses." Tom circled Ginevra; he bored his eyes into her vulnerable ones. No one could resist a Riddle's eyes.

"So…Ginevra…why did you do it? I have a feeling it's not exactly Potter. What's the _real _reason, Ginevra?" He liked pretending he had nothing to do with the voices inside of her head and her flickering eyes. Tom knew it was him and only him; Ginevra just couldn't admit it and blamed Potter. It was silly to do all that just for him, but it was pleasing. He lifted her chin with his frigid hands; Ginevra's eyes were still locked onto his: she was both compelled and knowing of what the catch was. But poor Ginevra could not control her mouth. But it was not dear Tom's doing.

"I-t, i- it was you. Yes, disappointment of Harry and being unimportant...to o-others pushed me closer to doing it…but it was you. All along. Yes, it was stupid, but you were the o-only person that knew me as much as I k-knew myself," Ginevra stuttered, while Tom massaged her shoulders, grinning at the same time. She used to be so weak and innocent, and is still powerless against him. He liked that. He really did. She was like putty in his hands, so fragile and young. She even reacted to him that same day when he was destroyed:

_"Gee, Tom, I didn't know you didn't like Harry so much. And can you please let go of me? I feel a little uncomfortable_," _said shy little Ginevra. Her hands were crossed over her chest as the older, superior Tom held her._

_ "Dear Ginevra," Tom moaned in her little ear. "I like to own what's rightfully __mine__." Wide-eyed Ginevra raised an eyebrow, still not getting the point. "I'm afraid I can't let go of you, little princess. And Potter is none of my concern at the moment." _

_ "It's you." Ginevra gasped to see what was in front of her._

_ TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

_ I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

_ That was the moment when she yawned and fainted into young Voldemort's arms._

Tom sighed; he remembered it like it was yesterday. The look on Ginevra's face was priceless that day. But that wasn't his favorite time when she was waiting for her death in the chamber.

"Ginevra, you do realize that you are wearing a dress now, don't you?"

Ginevra's eyes widened, and she looked at the clothes she was wearing. She was wearing a long light green dress that looked similar to her Yule Ball dress, but better. A somewhat darker ribbon was tied around her waist, and a small forest green cloak was on her. There was a black choker around her neck, and a longer locket with the letter "G" on it. A tiara lied on her red mane of hair.

"Oh my…well…thank you, Tom," Ginevra blushed. Tom leaned his body closer to her.

"Your dead body is also wearing the same outfit; don't worry, the blood did not stain it. I put a charm on you so when you died, you would look like a little serpentine princess," said Tom pleasantly. He raised her arm.

"I suppose you remember what we did that night." Oh yes, Ginevra remembered that memory vividly. Soft ballroom music came on from a miniature radio by a stool. Tom looked at Ginevra. Ginevra looked at Tom. Tom gave her one of his seductive, yet lovely smiles. He held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

They danced. They danced and danced until they couldn't move anymore. Ginevra called the dance "The Serpent's Waltz". Tom smiled. Dancing with and naming the _Prince_ of Serpents after the dance meant to him that the little thing he was dancing with had her heart in the prince's hand. And he would dominate and control that heart in a very sweet way. What Tom would think about when Ginevra gracefully moved like a plaything was that he, the serpent of the waltz, was always in control. Her heart was in Tom's sleeve since the day she almost died in the chamber: where she was living right now. He loved every second of it. And Ginevra couldn't help but agree.

Because being powerless to Tom Riddle was exactly what she wanted.


End file.
